read, write, ramble

I wake up buzzing with the need to start on a completely new story, even though the the previous one hasn’t quite finished its first draft (I don’t like leaving first, or any, drafts incomplete so this is a bit of a wrench for me). I’ve been pondering the appeasement, perhaps even collaboration, of Turnbull and Theresa May with Trump and it’s given me the spark of an idea, one that’s grown into a potentially interesting (and short) story. I manage to get about 500 words done.

The Kinderbesten have survived their sleepover, which is excellent to know: this now means we can safely abandon them on other occasions. I pick them up in my lunchbreak and return to work.

Much of the evening is given over to preparing the Kinderbesten for their first day back at school tomorrow–a day which also marks the Kinderbeast finally starting the full five days a week. We write names on stationery, make sandwiches, sort out clean clothes.

I had suggested earlier in the day that we would have time for TWO episode of Luke Cage, given that the Kinderbesten were now sentenced to their schoolday bedtime routine. My wife scorns me, but she ends up being absolutely correct. By the time we’ve finished and the kids are properly settled, we barely even have time for one episode.